Touch of Dawn
by Ramzes
Summary: She is no longer a child. But she is no queen either. She is no wife. Because Aegon III, her king, cannot bear to be touched. The second installment in my Daenaera Velaryon series.


_A sequel to Shimmers of Hope._

**Touch of Dawn**

In the beginning, Daenaera even believed the pretension – that Larra would come back. That it was nothing but a visit to her family – what was left of her family anyway. The idea that she might have ever wished to leave Viserys was beyond comprehension to her, yet with time, she realized that this was what had happened. Now she understood Viserys' grim silence, the new sternness that brought her to despair, for Viserys had been the only person who had been able to bring light in the royal chambers and a smile on Aegon's lips. Now, the Red Keep had become a darker place and she felt personally cheated and injured, although she knew she had no right to feel this way. She was no child and it had nothing to do about her. Still, if Viserys could change so, what hope was there for Aegon? If despair could claim Viserys so, how could she ever expect that Aegon would be able to step out of its dark shadow? The walls of the bloodied Red Keep pressed more closely, cutting off the shimmers of hope she had glimpsed, leaving only fears, loneliness, and acute hearing of what people said about her behind their hands – that there must be something wrong with her, or else she would have been able to attract her royal husband. For a girl with her looks, it should have posed no problem at all.

"He'll scramble out of it," Baela told Aegon after her arrival from Driftmark. She had just spent many hours with Viserys and now looked at Aegon with calm, lucid eyes. For some reason, that infuriated him.

"How can you know?" he snapped and Daenaera suddenly realized what moved him. It was fear. Fear of hoping. The room suddenly felt a lot more stifling.

The Broken King, they already called him.

"I just do," she said.

"Yes," he mocked. "Just like you knew that you and Jace would be like King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. _That_ didn't quite come to pass, did it? How many children were you going to have? Did you know which ones would be boys and which ones would be girls?"

Baela's face went white, the melted parts of her skin standing out even more. She opened her mouth but closed it without saying anything.

Aegon spat an obscenity the meaning of which Daenaera didn't even know. His face closing in horrified mortification, he rose unsteadily and came near his sister but not quite close, as if he was scared to fully close the distance. "I'm sorry," he said. Daenaera could see that he was. "I didn't mean this. Sometimes, I just…" He gestured helplessly. "I just don't think. Maybe it's true, what people say. Maybe it's the broken in me."

Listening to his remorse, remembering the biting words that, had she not heard them with her own two ears, she would have never believed had been spoken by him, Daenaera for the first time accepted that he was indeed broken beyond repair.

"I say it's our father," Baela said, not quite accepting his apology.

And yet she turned out to be right where Viserys was concerned. Oh he was just as harsh as before, losing that effortless charm of his that had drawn people to him. But with time, he started smiling once again, although not quite as easily. And he did burst out laughing when the three of them happened to see little Naerys' first independent movings – clearly unwilling to go to her nursemaid whom she already knew would put her to bed, the babe started crawling backwards as she was sitting on the carpet – she just started pushing herself away with her hands with speed that was remarkable for someone who, up until a few moments ago, had used those hands only to reach over to be held, grab everything she came across, and push it in her mouth or hair.

"By the gods, she's a clever girl indeed!" Aegon murmured, his eyes shining with mirth.

Viserys scowled. "If that's how it's going to be, I shudder at thinking what I am to see of her in the future."

He said it with straight face but his eyes were laughing. He noticed that they were both looking at him in disbelief and stunned hope and nodded, as if answering a question they did not dare ask. "I am no longer suffering," he said and there was something about him that told Daenaera that even if this wasn't quite true, it would become so with time. Impulsively, she reached over and clasped Aegon's hand before realizing what she was doing – and then she dropped it immediately. She had only wanted to share her joy, not make him feel uncomfortable.

To her great surprise, a moment later she felt his fingers brush her palm – a touch so light that she wasn't sure that she had not imagined it.

Hope bloomed anew. This time, Daenaera knew better than actually expect something but she was helpless to chase it. Finally, Aegon started noticing her. Not being loving or flirtatious the way young men were to other girls, girls they wanted to pay court to but noticing her anyway. Forcing himself to show interest in her everyday life. Talking to her and asking about her opinion as if he actually cared. Sometimes, he even touched her hand, albeit lightly and very, very fleetingly.

It was a few days after the end of the celebrations for her fourteenth nameday when one night, he looked at her over the ding in the great hall and said, "It'll happen tonight, my lady."

Daenaera had dreamed of that for so many moons, not short of two years, yet now she felt paralyzed with fear. She had been taught how to do her duty. Something more, she had been taught to pleasure him – or rather, to pleasure a man. Now, all too late, she realized that pleasuring a man who supposedly took delight in female company was not quite the same as pleasuring a man who could barely stand to be touched.

She didn't know how but at the time she started waiting for him, everyone in the Red Keep knew, they had learned somehow. Her handmaidens were particularly meticulous in bathing her and by the time she realized they were adorning and scenting her in a way that was sure to attract almost every man and push Aegon away, it was too late.

"Better not," Baela advised as she watched Daenaera trying to scrub the perfume off her skin. "I don't think it'll change much. You'll only look bedraggled."

The girl shot her a look of despair that tugged at Baela's heart. She remembered her own fears at her own first night, the scarred bride, no longer beautiful, not worthy of desire. She sympathized with Daenaera's fears with all she had – and Aegon's, as well.

"Take this," she said. "I only came to give it to you."

Daenaera gasped at the sight of the slim golden chain boasting seven diamonds that formed a perfect heart surrounded by rubies, sparkling scarlet like lifeblood. "Oh I cannot accept… I don't think I ever saw you wearing it."

"You haven't," Baela said. The smile on her beautiful and horrible face was bright as sunlight and drowned in grief that had yet to die. "I never put it on. Many years ago, Rhaena designed it and Jacaerys had it made. He wanted me to wear it in the day of our wedding… Alas! This day never came to pass. The one who was supposed to share weal and woe with me is no more. He's lying on the bottom of the sea, instead of our bedchamber…"

She paused and got a grip of herself. "Ah, he was a winning one, Jace. He could make me furious like no one else. But he could make me laugh as well."

Daenaera listened, her breath catching. Suddenly, she realized that this was the first time Baela talked about the more personal aspects of her life before… Her life before.

Soon, Baela had her roaring with laughter at the recollection of how one night, Jacaerys had woken her up by throwing strawberries at her window and how the next day he had been forced to fly Vermax right in front of said windows being assigned on cleaning duties. Clearly, the dragon had been incapable of understanding why they couldn't solve the problem in the most obvious way – by melting it. No window meant no problem.

Finally, Baela rose and left, touching Daenaera's hand encouragingly. Not long after, Aegon entered, whiter than the girl had ever seen him. All of a sudden, she realized that he was just as scared as her… and just as inexperienced. But really, how could he be anything but? Hesitantly, she reached out and brought his hand to her cheek. _This_ could not go without touch.

To her relief, everything went more smoothly than she had ever dared hope. Aegon's healthy young body cared not for his feelings and fears, it wanted what he had denied it for so long. And yet when the dawn crept up in the chamber and reached their bed, turning Aegon's fair hair into molten gold, Daenaera felt desperation crushing her anew when he refused to look at her, drawing instead as far as he could, to the very bedcurtains.


End file.
